Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Taiwan and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Fugazi to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dennis Brown record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alice Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiohead,
Faust,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Busters,
The Skatalites,
Joy Division,
Scientists,
Kurtis Blow,
The Young Rascals,
A Certain Ratio,
Henry Cow,
Arcadia,
Dawn Penn,
Fat Boys,
Unrelated Segments,
Fad Gadget,
Amon Düül,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Mummies,
X-101,
Pulsallama,
Nico,
The Cure,
Rites of Spring,
The Slackers,
Moby Grape,
The American Breed,
Idris Muhammad,
Sonic Youth,
Simply Red,
Sugar Minott,
Jandek,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
ABBA,
Quadrant,
The Golliwogs,
the Fania All-Stars,
Magma,
Sällskapet,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Eli Mardock,
Peter and Kerry,
Audionom,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Standells,
Loose Ends,
Minor Threat,
Jacob Miller,
The Beau Brummels,
Bush Tetras,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Qualms,
Wolf Eyes,
Guru Guru,
Kenny Larkin,
Infiniti,
Nik Kershaw,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Das Ding,
Prince Buster,
Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.